


Inky Depths

by write_light



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Grumpy Dean, Jealous Dean, M/M, Magical Tattoos, Possessive Dean, Sassy Sam, flirty Sam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-11
Updated: 2015-10-11
Packaged: 2018-04-25 20:03:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4974370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/write_light/pseuds/write_light
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Scene Request: Sam in a tattoo parlor, shirtless as he gets his anti-possession tattoo redone, and the tattoo guy is flirting with him and Dean's sitting in the corner getting really jealous and grumpy because Sam is flirting back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Inky Depths

The door hadn’t even swung shut and the guy was all over Sam.

In Sam’s eyes, he was about three feet away, smiling, hand out ready to shake. In Dean’s eyes, the guy was practically slipping that hand around Sam’s waist, and probably gonna slip a tongue into his mouth too, if he didn’t do something.

"So you do tattoos here?" Dean asked bluntly, his face lit with orange from the blinding neon TATTOOS DONE HERE sign.

Sam actually turned around to stare at him.

"I hope it’s for you," the guy said to Sam, the corner of his mouth curling up the tiniest bit.

"It is," Sam grinned back. "Ignore him."

"Hey!"

"Go read a magazine, Dean."

The tattoo guy directed Sam to a seat and they talked quietly while Dean sulked his way to the far corner where he could still see them clearly.

"My name’s Carl," the tattoo guy said, leaning forward as Sam leaned back in the chair.

"Sam. And that’s, uh, that’s Dean."

Carl looked momentarily unsure how to proceed, but this wasn’t his usual customer. He turned it up, foolishly.

"So, Sammy,…

Dean’s head popped up from the 1993 copy of _Road & Track_ he was pretending to read.

"…where do you want it?"

"On my chest," Sam said, smiling widely.

"Why don’t you strip off that tight shirt and let me see what kind of canvas I have to work with."

"Christ!" said a muttering voice from behind the magazine.

Sam stood up, his belt buckle inches from Carl’s face now, and eased his way out of the shirt. Carl swallowed hard when Sam stared down at him, all twinkling green eyes and dimples.

"Do-do you want it in black?"

"Do-do-do you want-" came the magazine voice from the corner.

"Dean. Go get us some food."

"Like hell." His eyes were now peering over the top of the magazine.

"Black'll be fine. You just have to follow the picture exactly. And I mean _exactly_. Life or death kind of thing,” Sam added as he sat down, long legs spread wide.

"That’s a big canvas," Carl said. "Would you like it here, or here?" 

Each time he said "here," he slid his fingertips around in a slow, lazy circle, watching Sam’s nipples respond.

He got to the fourth “here” just as the magazine slammed against the table like a shotgun crack. Carl jolted back.

"Ignore him," Sam said to Carl while staring straight at Dean. "He’s gonna get what he wants later." Sam let his head loll over to the other side and added in a whisper that even Carl barely heard, "But you can go back to what you were doing."

Dean, turning Sam’s words over in his mind, sank back behind the magazine and eventually dozed off.

Carl had to redraw the design three times while Sam’s knee grazed his crotch the whole evening.


End file.
